Missing Pieces
by sandlawkids
Summary: After Mike is attacked, he's a little lost, and struggling to cope. Paul helps him through the aftermath. Warnings: Self-harm, Mentions of non-con/rape, torture and alcohol abuse. Paul/Mike established.
1. What's In a Lie?

A/N: Written in Paul's POV all the way through. Warnings for: Non-con, nothing graphic, just mentioned.

**Chapter 1: What's in a lie?**

_Spotting Mike, I walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He seemed startled. It was cute. I laughed, and whispered in his ear.  
"Babe, wanna go out tonight? Somewhere quiet." I hinted. _It meant the little shack on the beach that Johnny, Lisa and I had built: where Mike and I had our first kiss_. I was playing with the hem of his shirt when he froze, and tensed suddenly under my touch. He wasn't like this before. I heard his breath quicken and grow ragged, stuck in his chest, along with his thumping heart. This just wasn't right. He tried to hide it, but I caught on. "Mikey, what's wrong with you?" To say I was worried was an understatement, "You've been… distant." He was distant. We hadn't slept together in over a week. I removed my arms, and Mike spun around. He avoided eye contact.  
"Paul. Can we take a break?" He seemed tired. Not sleepy, but drained of energy.  
"A break?" I exhaled, "Why, Mikey?  
"I need space." Wait, what? There was silence for a moment, then Mike spoke again, "Are we done?" Just like that? There has to be a reason. Was Mike cheating? – He wouldn't. I asked him anyway.  
"Did you cheat?" I whispered. I soon as I said it, I regret it. Mike looked hurt, even broken…by my words, "Look, Mike –" I tried to fix it, but it was too late.  
"Shut up, Briggs." He ran up to his room and locked the door. _

I thought about him, and that night, objectively from then on. Mike was an agent; I was supposed to train him. Agent Michael Warren, and his training officer, Paul Briggs – that's all we were _supposed to be._ I had to admit, he was talented, strong and resourceful. Thing is, he couldn't lie for shit.  
Something was wrong with that kid. Mike just wasn't the same after his last op with Bello. He broke up with me, for God's sake. He barely ate, always having an excuse to stay locked up in his room. Come to think of it, he was drinking a lot more too. He clearly didn't sleep either, considering it was 2am. I needed to find out what was wrong with him.

I looked around the house, and seeing that he wasn't in his bedroom, I checked the kitchen. Nothing. I checked the living room. I found Mike facing the wall. With his back hunched, and his shoulders shaking, it looked like he was crying.  
"Mike?" I stepped into the room, making my presence known. He wiped his face on his sleeve and cleared his throat, "What's going on?"  
"I d-don't know what you're talking about, Briggs…" Mike speech was slurred, he'd been drinking. I tried again.  
"You haven't been the same since that last Op with Bello," I saw him flinch when I mentioned Bello, "what happened, Mike?"  
"N-Nothing." Mike turned to face me and raised his voice, "Nothing happened!" he shouted, pointing a finger at me. Making my way over to Mike, I sat beside him.  
"Talk to me…please." I pleaded with him. Mike was hurting and I hated seeing him like that. Not being able to help him was the worst. He shook his head, looking utterly defeated.  
"Bello… H-he…" Mike's voice cracked as he ran his fingers through his hair, "I w-wasn't s-strong enough." He didn't have to finish. I knew what had happened, and it was my fault. That son of a bitch, Bello hurt Mike. I'm gonna kill him. Screw the mission. I'm gonna fucking kill him: slowly and painfully.  
I moved to touch Mike…rub his arm; pat his back…something to comfort him. He wasn't having any of that, and jerked his arm away from my grasp.  
"He r…" Mike was overcome by a fit of sobs, before clearing his throat. "He r-raped me." He was quiet, and there was a heavy silence. I didn't want to touch him, and I didn't know what to say.  
"Oh, Mike." I said tentatively, "Did you tell anyone?" he shook his head, "Did you go to the hospital?" he shook his head again; "You're coming with me. Let's go." I grabbed my coat and waited for him. He made no attempt to move. "Mike? Did you hear me?"  
He jumped, "Huh? Yeah…" I cocked an eyebrow, expecting some sort of movement. Nothing. "I'm tired, Briggs."  
"You'll sleep when we get back, alright?" I hoped my tone was soothing enough. Something so simple would never make up for me accusing him, or failing to shelter him from a mission he clearly wasn't ready for, but it was a start. Mike had a slight limp as he hobbled over to me. I hadn't noticed it before. I put his arm around my shoulder and led him to my jeep.

The clinic's closed, and the nearest hospital is….  
"Hold on, Mike." We started driving down the road in silence, but apparently Mike wanted to talk.  
"I'm sorry I was so weak." I wanted to pull over and scream at him. That it wasn't his fault, that I should have respected his space, that he'd done nothing wrong. But I didn't. Screaming at him just didn't seem like the right thing to do…  
"It's not your fault, Mike."  
"I'm an FBI agent, for god's sake." Seems the liquor had loosened his tongue, which was a good thing, depending on what side you're on, "And I couldn't fight him off, even with all my training. I'm a real fuck-up." He started to cry, burying his head in his hands.  
"Did you break your cover?" He shook his head. I knew he would, "You're not a fuck-up. I never wanna hear you talk about yourself like that again, you hear me?" Mike nodded slowly, wiping his eyes.

I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Service entrance, of course – still got to keep that cover intact. We wouldn't be here long anyway. Two nurses ushered him inside. He came back out, about half an hour later, with his hands bandaged and a bottle of painkillers. "Ready to go?" I asked. He nodded. We went to the jeep, and drove home in silence. Those bandages didn't sit well with me – Mike didn't need them. If he did, there would be blood on my shirt. Aw, screw it. I can deal with this another time.

I escorted him inside.  
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Mike." Mike paused for a second. He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and nodded. A small smile tugged at his lips for a second.  
"Thanks…but I don't need you to feel sorry for me."  
I shrugged and took him upstairs, and into his room. I was going to excuse myself, but he nonchalantly took off his shirt. The bandages went from his hands to just below his armpit, a pale purple bruise stretched across his chest. That was just what I could _see. _Bello really did a number on him. I eased him into bed and turned off the light. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't want to rush anything, it could do more harm than good.

"Night." I whispered through the darkness. I was closing the door when I heard him speak.  
"Paul, wait." I smiled. _Paul._ At least one thing was back to _normal. _  
"Yeah Mike?"  
"…Could you stay with me, please?" he begged. I couldn't leave him like that, right? He quickly did a double take, "I mean these painkill-"  
"Sure thing." I leaned back onto the couch in the corner of his room. It wasn't as comfortable as my bed, but that didn't matter. I had to be there for Mike. After all, it was my fault Bello had attacked him.  
"Goodnight, Paul."  
"Night, Mike."


	2. Honesty

**A/N: I'm late, I know. I'm sorry. I'm a master at procrastination and working on two stories at once was probably a bad idea. Excuses aside – Enjoy.  
****For: ChasingCheetahs. **_**  
**_

**Chapter 2: Honesty  
**

That was the night I discovered Mike talks in his sleep. That or I hadn't noticed it before. I probably would've found it cute under difference circumstances.  
"I d-don't…ow…what…talking 'bout." Mike was curled in a ball, face frozen in what looked like pain. He was sweating, "Please…I…don't. No!" I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.  
"Mike? Mike, wake up!" I yelled. His eyes snapped open and he started screaming.  
"Get off me!" I didn't have time to blink before his fist collided with my face.  
"Dammit Mike!" I let go of him, looking in the mirror, touching my cheek tentatively, "You hit hard."  
"Paul, I'm sorry." He ran up to me, looking at my eye. "I'm so sorry." The kid was way too jumpy. I had to get ice on this eye.  
"Mikey," I forced a laugh, trying to show him everything was fine, "it's okay. You were just having a nightmare." He blushed, but seemed to calm down after that. "Are you okay?" He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot-to-foot, looking uncomfortable with the question. He sat back on his bed with a pained exhale. I sat beside him, I was trying to be understanding, but I didn't think it would be so taxing.  
"Can I be honest with you?" he finally said, I smiled.  
"Honesty would be nice."  
"I think…um…" Mike gently brushed his lips against mine. I blinked. And blinked some more. No coherent thought was going through my mind at this point. My head was spinning. Agent Warren had just kissed me. How exactly do you proceed in this situation? I'll just, for now, pretend it never happened. I mean, FBI trainee/boyfriend/victim breaks up with me, then kisses me? What am I supposed to think?  
"Right." I nodded, "So, I'm just gonna go…" I said awkwardly. Mike looked sad, but nodded anyway.  
"Lock the door behind you." He ordered, his voice all-business. Sure, why not? I locked the door and jogged downstairs. No one was awake yet, it being too damn early. I took a beer from the fridge and gulped. Rubbing my eyes, I sighed. This was gonna be a long day.

**GRACELAND ~ GRACELAND~ GRACELAND~**

"Would you look at that?" Johnny said, gesturing toward a clearly hungover Paige, "Another walk of shame!"  
"At 11am? You're a bit late, Paige." Charlie commented.  
"Shut up," Paige snapped, before waving her hand dismissively, "Sorry. My head's pounding." She glared at/stared down Johnny, and stormed up the stairs.  
Johnny, Charlie and I were seated at various locations around the kitchen. Johnny was aimlessly flirting with Charlie in Spanish. He flirted with anything that had a pulse. Of course, he was getting nowhere.  
"Aye, JT. Watch how you speak, man." I jokingly warned, like a big brother, protecting his little sister. Charlie rolled her eyes at my tone.  
"How's the Bello operation going?" She asked. It was an innocent question. Except it wasn't. The Bello Op wasn't going well. Bello _raped_ Mike, and I was expected to go back and pretend I was okay with it, like I wasn't gonna rip his head off. The very thought made me sick. I could **feel **the anger coursing through my veins. I must have been quiet too long though, because both Charlie and Johnny both had worried looks on their faces.  
"Paulie, you okay?" I put on my best fake smile.  
"Yeah, Chuck. Perfectly fine." I lied.  
"The crushed beer can in your hand says otherwise." She retorted.  
"And the cans in the trash are talking too." Johnny said, eyebrow raised. I slowly released my grip on the can and laughed.  
"So I had a few. No biggie."  
"It's a bit-" Johnny started, but Charlie cut him off.  
"And Mike? What's he like in the field?"  
"Well," I thought for a moment, "about Mike –"  
"What about me?" I turned to see Mike standing in the doorway. Long sleeves of a hoodie covered the bandages. He wasn't Mike anymore – he was Levi. His hands were buried deep in his pockets. He eyed Johnny warily, as if sizing him up. "What happened to your face?" I coughed lightly and Mike seemed to get the message. He blushed.  
"Ooooh! Paul likes it rough!" Johnny laughed at his tactless joke and winked at me. Mike cringed, and scratched nervously at his wrist, revealing red-stained white.  
So either Mike's stitches had come out, or he locked his door for a reason – he did this to himself.  
"Not funny, Joe." I deadpanned. Johnny looked like I'd just killed his mother and kicked his puppy.  
"I'm gonna go…" he mumbled, looking uncomfortable. He left the kitchen, and I heard his footstep up the stairs.  
"Me too. Unlike you people, I actually have a job." She winked at me, and squeezed Mike's shoulder on the way out. I nodded to her as she left the room. After she had gone, Mike sat opposite me.  
"Were you really gonna tell them?" he asked. Was I? _Like I'd ever betray Mike. _Of course I wouldn't. I would just make up some lie.  
"Mike, I –"I was interrupted by my phone's ringing. At any other time, I would've just ignored it, but this was important. I _had_ to answer it. It was Bello. Looking sympathetically at Mike, I answered it.  
"Bello, my man!" I greeted him, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. I glanced over at Mike. Anger didn't even begin to describe the look on Mike's face. Hurt didn't even scratch the surface. He stormed off. "Yeah, I can set it up." He hung up. I couldn't set up anything. Why, you ask?  
Bello wanted to meet Mike; and there was no way, come hell or high water, that I was gonna let him hurt Mike again. The thing that angered me the most though, was the fact that Bello thought Mike _owed_ him sex, like it was part of the job description or something. Still, if we got something on tape….I gotta talk to Mike.

**A/N: We see the first mention of Mike's supposed self-harm in this chapter. It was supposed to be longer, but I didn't want to have you guys waiting too long, so I sliced the chapter in half. Reviews are welcome, as always.  
****I have school, so it'll take a little longer to update. Sorry.**  



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